


Alive With the Glory of Love

by lemoninagin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And Then Some, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Ritual Public Sex, Spanking, aka Lance and Keith's excellent adventure to defile every inch of the castle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoninagin/pseuds/lemoninagin
Summary: “Hurry,” Lance urges with a gasp, clutching harder at the stands with both hands poised on them for support now, palms slick with sweat, “They’re going to find us like this if we don’t hurry, oh myGod.”A deep chuckle tickles over his ear, almost rivaling the pounding of blood in them.“Let them.”





	

It began as a bet, as a joke of sorts.

 

A _challenge_ , if you were to look at it a certain way, Lance thinks as anticipation rises low in his gut, how it turns his stomach pleasantly to even think about.

 

They’re all gathered in the main control room, circled up as Allura explains their plans for the day. Something, something, _answering a distress signal_ , something, something _we’ll meet back up here in about a hundred ticks time or so, so be prepared._ There’s a mission or something like that soon, maybe, he doesn’t know.

 

Lance isn’t really listening, distracted by far more pressing things.

 

He taps his foot, itches his arm during the end of her speech. Jams his hands hard into his pockets, brings them back out to wring them together, because the suspense is killing him. Keith is across from him, has been watching him like a hawk the whole time, a sneaky sort of knowing smirk curling up his lips.

 

Lance’s body hums with nervous tension. Keith’s looking at him like he’s prey, like he’s about to pounce right over and get him on his back, go in for the kill.

 

It’s supposed to be a surprise sort of thing, but Lance isn't oblivious. He  _knows_ that look. And he thinks, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides stiffly, that it still does little to prepare him for the attack that he knows will follow.

 

The purpose of their little game was clear in it’s mostly flawless execution so far - to catch the other off guard in the most inappropriate places and at the most bizarre times with sexual favors escalating in their filthiness. Double points for doing it somewhere as close to someone walking in on them as possible without actually getting caught.

 

Not that they were really keeping score anymore.

 

But getting caught, if it ever _were_ to happen, was a thing they didn’t really talk about. That was a consequence so far from their minds in the heat of the moment, it was honestly starting to become a real problem, because once hooked, Keith always strove for bolder and better, was apparently an adrenaline junkie chasing a sex high he couldn’t seem to ever come down from.

 

There was something - something Lance had awakened in him that thrilled him to the core, that made every single time they touched now seem amplified by the forbidden atmosphere of it all.

 

He’d get this possessive gleam in his eye, and if Lance was close enough to him during an encounter, he could feel the rapid staccato of Keith’s heart, spiking no doubt off the charts. He’d grown accustomed to his role in this new challenge wildfire quick, running with it even farther than Lance dared, warping the fraying boundaries of it all and often getting them into situations Lance was having to become increasingly more creative with to get out of unscathed.

 

Despite the euphoria that came with the impulsivity of it all, there was an unspoken agreement that getting caught would _definitely_ lose you points, because there really was nothing worse than having to explain the _why_ of Keith being balls deep in you in the training deck control room for some reason.

 

Lance sighs, quaking a little under the heat of Keith's eyes roaming over his skin, watching, waiting for when to strike. He started this, so he guesses he can't really complain. He started this war the moment he teased Keith and sealed his fate, flashing back to that memory that's almost hard to comprehend now, when Keith had endearingly worried about whether someone would see them the first time Lance kissed him outside of their rooms.

 

Keith kept saying he wasn't afraid, exactly, and that he'd show Lance he could take a little PDA - and God, how he took that and warped it to a whole other level of insanely hot things that Lance couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride for provoking. It began so innocently, experimental and tentative. Quickies in supply closets and hangars, the occasional heavy petting and making out in the dining hall when others disappeared into the kitchen for a bit to make food, Keith flushing up to his ears every time. That sort of thing - nothing too crazy, nothing that lasted too long. It was only toeing that line, adding a bit of spice to their sex life, and all that frivolous jazz. In the grand scheme of things, this honestly worked out for them better, as there wasn't always the time in between fighting to really explore their bodies, and most of those times trying to find private moments were almost immediately interrupted, anyway.

 

As per usual with them, however, things escalated unbelievably quickly.

 

Before Lance knew it, he was being eaten out in hallways, or teased with Keith’s feet under the table at lunch with everyone around. Heavy pettings evolved into wanting more, into either him or Keith being fully naked in some public area, testing out how far they could push each other to tip someone off about what they were doing without _really_ tipping them off about what they were doing.

 

If he were a stronger, less instant gratification driven man, in some alternate universe, he might have actually tried to put a stop to this before anything truly devastating happened. But there isn’t anything he particularly _wants_ to stop, that he thinks _needs_ to be stopped when he sees the way Keith’s eyes spark in excitement, how they flash with deranged curiosity when he gets the opportunity to expose Lance in newer, more exotic ways every day.

 

It’s so commonplace to them, so natural to do it like this now, with the alarm and this instinctual need, with the secrecy and the threat of impending doom, that Lance thinks they might even come full circle to going back to their rooms soon, as that’s starting to become the really taboo area.

 

It’s the mystery of not knowing that’s got him so riled currently,  and if he's somehow reading Keith wrong here, he's about to be sporting the most awkward and painful boner of his life for the next few hours. It’s a bad idea, but Lance executes a lot of bad ideas lately when it comes to Keith, so he doesn’t try to staunch the memories that flash up at the prospect of what’s hopefully going to come next. 

 

Some of his best orgasms happened in Red, legs spread over her sleek interior as Keith rode him while they’d left the shared video intercom on. One button slip up, and they’d have been on screen, like some shoddy B-rate porno. He thinks about how they had been _so_ close to slipping that one time, how his knees had knocked into the controls, and if Keith hadn't had the common sense to slam it back off--

 

He sucks in a breath, and Keith practically leers at him, like he knows _exactly_ what he’s thinking about. Keith waits until he's sure no one is paying them any attention, and then he taps his wrist, like he’s gesturing to an imaginary watch. Lance flushes.

 

His mind continues to wander, fondly to that other time, pinned against a tree in some forest of a planet they’d stopped on with the locals just around the corner, Keith’s fingers fucking him open as his nails dug into the bark. He thinks about the time in the showers that was somewhat of an accidental thing as Shiro walked in about halfway through with his mouth stuffed full of cock, and he had to gag Keith to keep him quiet as they heard the steady footsteps right outside the stall door.

 

His pants tighten at the memories, mouth practically watering and so ridiculously horny that he wonders if this isn’t some weird Pavlovian response he’s grown accustomed to from just the mere _suggestion_ of Keith’s gaze, completely blind sighted from anything important when he’s so eager for Keith to get his hands on him again.

 

But this - _here_. He gulps, tongue thick and fat in his mouth. This would be _really_ pushing it.

 

A hundred ticks - how long is a hundred ticks again? He can’t remember really anything as everyone files out of the room except for him and Keith. Lance wrings his hands together for the last time, watching with his lip caught between his teeth, making sure everyone’s entirely gone before he steps forward.

 

He tips his chin up proudly, matches Keith’s leer with a glare. He’s not going to pussy out of this, not yet anyway.

 

He won’t back down.

 

“ _Come at me, bro_ ,” he might say, if this was the sort of fight that called for something like that.

 

But there are no words - no _time_ for such trivialities - only the determined clapping of boots on tile and the sashaying of over-confident hips.

 

Keith is in front of him in no time, smiling, eyes sharp and dark with lust. He comes at him like he said it anyway.

 

Arms snake around his waist and drag him close, a cold hand is shoved without warning down his pants. Lance rattles through a sharp inhale, trying to contain the squeak that burbles up his throat, immediately needy with Keith’s greedy hands fumbling over his clammy skin.

 

Okay, so they _are_ doing this _here_ , doing this _now_ , in the large common area surrounded by stars that flit past them as the ship floats towards their destination, making Lance feel more exposed than ever before.

 

No big deal, he thinks, all shaky and breathless when Keith backs him into the center control stand, the one Allura uses to steer the ship. It's no big deal at all that Keith is bending him over the one thing that’s going to make sure Lance never forgets about what amazingly fucked up things may happen here. No big deal that it’s going to be weeks, maybe months even, before he’ll ever be able to look at it the same without feeling that heat, that desire -  a feeling so very familiar to him now. And he thinks with an internal laugh, that that’s probably _exactly_ Keith’s end game here, to do so many lewd things to him over every surface of the ship that soon Lance won't be able to so much as step outside comfortably anymore without the raging press of a hard-on pushing against his zipper.

 

Keith kisses him that way, with his spine bent over a controller, one hand cradling his balls. Kisses him fiery and passionate like he usually does, all brash tongued with a hint of teeth. The controls, of course, don’t respond and only blip aquamarine, completely unaware of the pressure on them. Lance entertains himself with the thought of how hilarious it would be if they accidentally pressed a button that zapped them off to some unknown universe.

 

His excitement rises, the added spike of danger, of _possibilities_. He halfway laments that they can’t actually do that, but the fantasy engulfs Lance anyway. There's teeth nipping down his neck, rough and sharp, the hand cradling his balls flexes and pushes. And he's here, thinking about things like an unexpected jump into hyperspace right as Keith brings him to climax, or of being transported where they suddenly have a large audience.

 

That isn’t all, Lance realizes with a start, separating himself from his imagination. There’s the very _real_ threat that a video could pop up from these aliens beaming the distress signal at any minute. A Galra soldier could contact them on the giant screen as they often do.

 

His head throbs with desire, with fear, with the urge to be entirely consumed until all he can feel is Keith, and nothing else.

 

This is bad. So, _so_ bad.

 

Keith continues avoiding his cock, raking his fingernails so lightly and lazily at the juncture of his groin that Lance easily becomes a mess of garbled whines, molding boneless like putty under every unsatisfying touch that he can. He’s pushing back against Keith until his lips grow numb, bucking shamelessly into the hand that absolutely refuses to cooperate and touch him where he really wants, craving _more, more, more._

 

Keith’s too good at this, too calculating. He easily knows what buttons to push, maps out all of his most sensitive areas to make him unravel, to make him fold like a hand of cards. Lance curls  a trembling palm to the back of Keith’s neck, slotting their faces together at an angle so he can more easily taste him and get that _pressure_ , can more easily snag his lip and hear the grunt of appreciation he knows will follow. Reminding himself that he needs to be quiet if they’re going to continue getting away with this, only seems to be making everything about a 100 times more appealing.

 

Well. So Keith is testing him, clearly.

 

It isn’t long before his pants and boxers are yanked haphazardly around his thighs, when they fall completely bunched in a heap around his ankles seconds later. In the pleasant, dizzying haziness of it all, Keith turns him around, so that he’s facing the view of the incomprehensible vastness of space. Draping himself against his back, Keith slides his palms higher, skirting over his nipples through his shirt.

 

He sighs contentedly as he tweaks one, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger until it hardens, and Lance slaps a hand over his mouth. With his dick completely bared to the air now, pulsing with need while Keith’s hands torture him, he surges forward, gripping one of the control stands at the last minute before he tumbles to the ground.

 

Those calloused hands continue to roam, continue to seek out the best way to _almost_ hit their mark every time, but not _quite_ , just enough so that it drives Lance respectively insane. Keith begins to roll his hips, so subtly that it takes Lance a second to feel it, too wrapped up in the palm hovering just above his cock to really notice.

 

Fingers press insistently to the inside of his thighs agonizingly slow instead - testing, careful, as they dig into the soft flesh and caress a zigzagging line up towards his groin.

 

They don’t have time for this exploring, for this slow and steady rhythm Keith has set, which he does most because he knows how it gets to Lance. Keith knows all too well how it churns something in him so white hot, dangerous and dark, his touch licking like flames over the curves of his body - which he plays like he’s some unschooled musician plucking random strings and somehow hitting all the right notes. It’s overwhelming in the pleasure Lance feels from it, like it’s not just physically releasing him, but actually pulling all the bad parts out of him and replacing it with things like the soft gaze of Keith’s gentle smile.

 

All bets are off, this is crazy on a level even he can barely appreciate.

 

“ _Hurry_ ,” Lance urges with a gasp, clutching harder at the stands with both hands poised on  them for support now, palms slick with sweat, “They’re going to find us like this if we don’t hurry, oh my _God_.”

 

A deep chuckle tickles over his ear, almost rivaling the pounding of blood in them.

  
“ _Let them_.”

 

That warm palm wraps around his length, finally, tugging upwards roughly, enough so that his neck snaps back. Lance can’t help it, he shudders out a moan.

 

He’s regretting it instantly as it reverberates, hauntingly loud, echoing all around them.

 

_Shit._

 

He freezes, waiting for the inevitable sound of footsteps, of voices of the others calling out to them. It’s hard for him to hear past the noise of his own thudding heart, over Keith’s ragged breathing behind him. Keith doesn’t stop, only pumps him the tiniest bit harder, causing so little relief his cock only aches more.

 

It’s not just the added danger of the situation making him harder, not just Keith’s fingers trailing and circling around the base and head of his cock when he stops pumping altogether. It’s when Keith talks like he’s so confident, all cocksure like he knows Lance better than even he knows himself (which he doesn’t, he totally _doesn’t_ ) that makes that electricity thrum over every inch of his skin.

 

The prospect of being discovered like this, too, isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with, but the reality of such closer danger than just a few shaky handjobs in the training deck is what’s jerking his hips back urgently, is what has his spinning head resting in the crook of Keith’s shoulder for support.

 

To be found here, pants around his ankles, so wantonly quaking beneath Keith’s every touch right out in the open. To be found where obviously not just the team could see them, but any passing spaceship _could_ , almost has him finishing before they’ve even started.

 

He imagines it, oh, he’s definitely imagining it, breath puffing out fast and uneven. He bends lower, Keith curves with him, pushing his back firmly with his chest as he goes. His other hand clamps around his wrist as if to pin him in place, and the illusion of dominance makes Lance keen, a whimper soaring from his lips. Keith’s so much closer, and now that Lance can clearly feel the thick of his cock hard against his ass, he knows - he isn’t the only one so excited.

 

He can’t stop thinking about it, and he wonders if, judging by the hitch in Keith’s breath by his ear, if he’s thinking about it, too.

 

Complete strangers, species of aliens they’ve never met, passing by, unaware. Aliens suddenly noticing them, crowding the windows of their ships as they try to comprehend what they’re seeing.

 

To know, that they’d see him coming apart like this. That they’d get a glimpse into this private world, where they’d find that he belongs to Keith and no one else, to peek at how much he loses control when Keith handles him like he’s a present he needs to take his sweet time unwrapping -

 

It’s almost too much to bear. Lance’s grip becomes white knuckled, his legs weak and useless beneath him. There’s precum dripping hotly down his shaft and trickling over Keith’s fingers, likely about to coat his inner thighs if he keeps up his ingratiatingly even pace.

 

“That sounds like a -” Lance finally manages to choke out a response, stomach lurching when he arches and finds his eyes set on the twinkling stars. Keith licks a sloppy stripe up his neck. “- like an _objectively_ not so great idea.”

 

“Really?” Keith speaks like that’s the most surprising thing he’s heard all day. He tightens his grip, grinding his thumb over the slickness of Lance’s head, and sinks his teeth into a freshly sucked area his mouth decides to land on. “But you seem to be having so much fun.”

 

“That’s why I said object- _objectively_ , _Mullet_ ,” Lance huffs, but he laughs a little through it, more so when Keith draws his fingers so feather light over the jutting bone of his hip that it tickles.

 

Lance hides his face against his arm, twisting a strange combination of a laugh and moan into the fabric of his shirt.

 

“Huh, that’s new,” Keith seems to be evaluating, calculating something, which they sure as hell don’t have time for. He repeats the motion, sounding mindfully observant like he’s taking notes on the way Lance’s hip roll for later research. “You like that?”

 

“ _Maybe_.”

 

Lance grits his teeth, determined not to be the one to falter here. He snaps into the not-nearly-enough touch of his strokes, trying to direct it somewhere he can get some actual friction. Keith seems to sense what he wants, and he guides him, nudging him forward and swinging him around so fast it takes Lance a second to realize where he’s been repositioned.

 

He’s _on_ the control platform now, facing one of the stands head-on, rather than between them.

 

Keith grabs a handful of his shirt, hand sneaking between his thighs to trail up his perineum so lightning quick Lance doesn’t even have the time to plea for more before Keith is slamming him against the stand.

 

And the cool metal meets his bare skin, hitting at the perfect groin level. It pulls a shudder out of him that wracks his entire frame as his hips crack forward like a whip, moan burbling just far enough down in his throat that he barely manages to stifle it.

 

“You’re such a disgusting _pervert_ , rubbing yourself on that,” Keith’s voice is light and airy as he speaks still posed at his ear, but it sounds like coals crackling beneath a raging fire. “So dirty and disrespectful. What would the others thinks if they knew about the way you’re defiling the controls like this?”

 

It’s a little known fact that still manages to throw Lance off guard, but Keith seems to like to hear himself talk when he’s doing these things, likes to try and make it filthier on words alone, so that what they’re physically doing only pales in comparison in depravity. It’s something he does, probably, because he knows it gets that rise out of Lance, that extra edge of control he likes to work with. But it isn’t technically a win if Lance more than enjoys it, and he sure as hell isn’t going to start questioning the deeper seated reasons for something so wonderful, even now, when it’s probably appropriate he protest.

 

“I’d have fucked you here, you know, if we’d prepared better,” Keith whispers, fingers running up his sides, letting that suggestion hang there, “Though that seems to go against this whole ‘doing it in the moment’ thing we’ve got going on, doesn’t it?”

 

He laughs when Lance mouths a quiet ‘ _oh God_ ’ to the heavens of any universal space deity that might be able to help save him.

 

But no one’s coming, he thinks. No one except him soon, anyway.

 

He _hopes._

 

“Let’s just say that you’re lucky I didn’t bring lube,” Keith continues murmuring while he peppers kisses up to his earlobes, molding flush against him, “I’d fuck you so hard and good, everyone would instantly know, you’d be screaming so loud. I’d spread your legs exactly how you like it, and take you just like this, from behind. I’d listen to you make all those pretty little noises you do when you’re really desperate, when you get to that point where you can’t even speak anymore. I _love_ that.”

 

Keith’s words are accompanied by heavy pants, and he muffles his own moan into the skin of Lance’s neck. Rolling quicker and harder into him, he bites down, cursing and pistoning his hips.

 

“Love it, love it, love it,” he praises like a mantra, adding friction and heat and the quickening of Lance’s pulse. “I want to hear you so bad right now.”

 

Lance strangles down a moan, so close to losing that thinly held together control he has, and Keith isn’t helping with that by saying these things. Which Keith _knows_ , of course, so he keeps doing it, pushing him over that fine line within the realm where getting caught is only becoming more and more likely.

 

“I’m pretty close to encouraging it, and I honestly won’t stop you if you try to make noise,” Keith snorts a little, hot over the sweat of his skin, and Lance stifles a whimper as best he can. “But then we’d be caught, wouldn’t we? And you’re _such_ a beautiful mess right now, fuck, just look at you. It’d be embarrassing.”

 

Keith pulls back as if he is indeed taking a moment to bask in the glory of how he must look, all loose limbs and sweat-slicked skin, so turned on every inch of him is vibrating for release. Lance doesn’t dare turn around as it heightens his senses to be kept more in the dark of what comes next. Keith is somewhere close enough that he can still feel his lingering body heat, and Lance waits obediently, breathing shallow and raspy.

 

No, there's no way of knowing what Keith’s up to exactly, until a hand smacks his ass swiftly, so suddenly that he yelps and thrusts forward, knocking into the controller with an equally as loud _clang_.

 

The noise of it all bounces around the wide, open area, jarring like a drum beaten at full force.

 

Lance jams his fingers into his mouth to stop anything more from leaking out, pain searing over his vision. Keith’s hand sticks where it is instead of recoiling back for more (it takes him about five to get Lance to come, they’ve tested this multiple times), so even he at least must be considering they should be quieter, since they don’t really _, technically_ , want to be caught. His palm lingers there on his cheek, squeezing gently, rubbing over the sting of it.

 

“Holy shit,” Lance chokes around a mouthful of fingers, sucking them, scrambling to somehow busy himself with something other than the urge to scream. “Holy fucking _shit_ , you’re crazy, but that was _so_ hot, so _good_ , baby pl-please, more, ah, fuck--”

 

And Keith only laughs, softly, and Lance feels it settle deep into his bones.

 

His entire body jerks with tremors, with tiny little aftershocks of pleasure even as his thoughts draw back to how long it’s been, how any second now surely they’ll come back, especially with all the racket they’re making.

 

Keith Kogane plays dirty, sure, but Lance would be a liar if he said he didn’t love every second of it.

 

“God, how I want to fuck you when you’re like this,” Keith croons, hand pressing a little harder on his ass, so that the pressure on his cock against the stand increases to the point Lance is completely engulfed by sensation on both sides. “I want to bend you over the controls up front, too, take my time easing you open, _pull your hair_.”

 

Keith cards a hand through his hair, _tugging_ , and Lance gulps down the yell that threatens to follow. “I’d do it the way you love, your favorite way. Really slow and sweet, taking my time touching you, you know? You miss that, don't you?”

 

“I don’t, ugh, I d-don’t, that’s not, you can’t just say - _ah_!” Lance struggles to respond when the climb of climax starts at the base of his spine, tongue confused between whether to moan, retaliate, or just cry out like his body craves.

 

“It’s _not_ my favorite thing, going slow and sweet,” he lies, rocking his hips, rubbing teasingly against Keith’s erection so they can end this. “Quit being all g-gay and stuff.”

 

“Oh, Lance,” Keith hisses, grinding into him, _hard_. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to break it to you, but this is as gay as it gets.”

 

He shoves Lance’s shirt fully up, fingering the notches in his spine as his hand traces from the nape of his neck and then settles down to the small of his back, pushing, adding an incredible amount of force. Lance jerks back and forth like a marionette doll, caught between the quickening short-fast pulses of Keith’s pumps around the base of his cock and the controller.

 

Asteroids float in their aimless paths outside, the stars shimmer and split in his watering vision, which is starting to fade in and out. Keith says incomprehensibly sweet things muffled into his shoulder, says things Lance only hears when he’s at his most open, things _only_ Lance gets to hear at all.

 

He decides, in that moment with the illusion of Keith fucking him hard into the navigation controller of an alien ship floating through space, that he never intends to share these moments with anyone else, _ever_.

 

He seizes up, hands grappling to reach for something, anything - and Keith is there, catching one and lacing their fingers together. He squeezes it, Lance groans. He barely makes it at the last second, faint sense crawling into him before it all crashes down into one, blinding crescendo. He’s spilling with one last jolt over Keith’s palm when he pulls back from the controller to keep from leaving any incriminating evidence. Heaving a grunt, Keith apparently follows with teeth sinking one last stuttering moan into his shoulder. Slowing as they stand to catch their breaths still immeshed together, they try to come down from the rush of it all.

 

They don’t get that luxury of basking in any sort of afterglow. A chorus of voices chatting just down the hall sets them into motion again, Lance scrambling for his pants to make himself presentable, Keith - _dear God_ \- licking the cum from his fingers. _Now_ Keith finds it appropriate to be frazzled, frantically asking Lance for confirmation as he checks the front of his pants, sighing in relief when he sees that luckily nothing soaked through to the fabric.

 

And when the rest of the team turns the corner, the only thing anyone will be getting a glimpse of is Lance’s still cherry red face and the ghost of Keith’s satisfied smile.

**Author's Note:**

> [Exclusive canon footage of Keith thinking about what he was gonna do moments before it all went down](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CuhYAp8UEAA_yjN.jpg)


End file.
